


make 'em wish they had it this way

by childrenbehave



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childrenbehave/pseuds/childrenbehave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anybody could walk in. Give it ten minutes and somebody will. Potentially Harry with his Vine app. That would be a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	make 'em wish they had it this way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazy_daze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_daze/gifts).



> For the prompt 'Louis reacts to Liam in that tank top.'

‘Hey, Nialler, got a spare-’

Niall shakes his head and Louis takes an interest in the discussion. If Zayn is asking Niall about spare t-shirts, he’s next in line. It’s not that he doesn’t have any. But they’re in his case and it’s only the first bloody concert of the North American tour, so it is completely and totally beyond Louis that Zayn is already asking about spares.

‘Ask Lou, mate,’ Niall says with a shrug, then sees Louis’s death glare from the couch. ‘Lou not Louis, I mean. I think she carries a bunch of plain black spares for you and Haz all the time after -’

Oh, Niall’s a clever one. Louis gives him a thumbs up as Zayn mutters under his breath and leaves on ‘we agreed never to talk about that again.’

Lou waits until the door to the hotel room is safely shut and raises an eyebrow at Niall. ‘You’ve always got a spare.’

‘Gave it to Liam already, didn’t I?’ Niall replies, rolling his eyes. ‘Wish I’d never told any of you. I hadn’t even worn that one yet.’

Louis can understand that; Zayn usually keeps off anything with a price tag nowadays, but Louis did put effort into that prank, so he’d better.

Niall gets up in search of a glass of water - it’s hot as hell even with the air conditioning across the whole floor - and his tank top sticks to his back, right down the middle, and there’s a shine on his shoulder blades.

Which is when Louis realises -

If it’s _Niall’s_ spare -

Oh, fuck.

*

His fears (wishes?) are confirmed ten minutes later when Liam comes in to tag Niall out for styling. His hair looks good. Really good. He’s edging on fauxhawk but it goes with the dude vibes of the rest of the look, which Louis could look at, but he’s keeping his eyes above the neck like a Victorian for fear of his life. 

‘Oi, shift up,’ Liam says, sitting next to him. Louis alternates between wanting to point out the other two couches in the room and wanting to put his face on Liam’s biceps, which are right there. 

‘What’s this? I mean, what even -’

Lou’s had his turn with Lou, though, so he’s not supposed to mess up his hair.

Liam blushes but doesn’t move away. 

Louis tugs at the tank top straps where they sit - god help him, god help the fans, god help everyone - loosely over Liam’s collarbones. His knuckles fit neatly into the hollows there and is this how Liam felt about the braces? He could bring them back, if so. He maybe threw them away - he can buy more if he can ever look at them without thinking of the Year of Braces - but if Liam wanted to crawl all over him and drag him up by his clothing like Louis does right now, he could definitely bring them back. 

‘Liam Payne,’ Louis says, moving into his lap and leaning into whispering distance, ‘are you trying to fucking kill me?’

Liam laughs. ‘Maybe. I was shirtless before and you didn’t do this.’ Liam hooks his hand through Louis’s back beltloops under the hem of the dark shirt. 

‘No, but I did plenty else, didn’t I?’ Lou says, shifting on his lap. Anybody could walk in. Give it ten minutes and somebody will. Potentially Harry with his fucking Vine app. That would be a problem. And yet. 

Liam shifts his hips under Louis. Louis doesn’t know why they’re being so horrible to themselves; they don’t have time to finish anything they start, and it isn’t like in London where, if they sneak off for a quickie and wreck Liam’s shirt in the process, they can swap and grab a spare for Louis. 

(Louis doesn’t want to remember the white scoop neck on Liam almost as much as he doesn’t ever want to forget it. Thankfully, there are pictures.)

‘You um,’ Liam answers, eventually, and Louis did distract him with the neatest - filthiest - kisses he could think of: he doesn’t want to completely mess up their styling, but also, the fact that Liam knows he’s holding back so much is making him breathe harder under Louis and angle his head for more, even while Louis sits back on his thighs. 

‘I what, Liam?’ Louis says, grinning. Liam’s getting less hesitant about saying what he wants - and what they’ve done - but he’s not as shameless as Louis yet. Not many people are, though.

Liam pulls him forward and tugs his shirt neck to the left, then sucks a lovebite there. Louis tilts his head back with a groan. Corrupting Liam was his best and worst decision ever. He’s going to feel the tender skin there the whole way through the show - as if looking at Liam the whole time wasn’t bad enough - and it’s going to be hours before they can get their hands on each other again. 

‘You’re doing this so I’m not the only one distracted on stage, aren’t you?’ Liam grinds out against his skin. His hips are rigid under Louis like he’s trying hard not to move. 

‘Oh, completely,’ Louis says, darting in to tug Liam’s bottom lip between his teeth. Nobody’s ever complained about Liam’s lips looking a bit red. ‘So later, we’re totally-’

Louis tugs the hem of the tank top to illustrate his point. Liam nods, cheeks pink and pupils blown. ‘I’ll keep it on. You could - you could grab the back. If you like.’

The only thing Louis thinks is hotter than Liam knowing what he wants is Liam knowing what he wants and asking for it. And Liam knows it. Louis kisses him again. Thank God it’s a hotel night, because all Louis wants after the show is Liam face down on a double bed. 

‘Niall’s going to kill us,’ Liam says with a laugh, ‘he hadn’t even taken the tags off yet.’ 

‘Won’t even be able to lie about it,’ Louis agrees cheerfully. 

Liam looks guiltily at the door then back at Louis, still on his lap. ‘Worth it.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Louis agrees, and doesn’t move away until one of their bandmates - thankfully not Niall - barrels in. 

END.


End file.
